A thunderous horn tore through the silence—BOOOOM—its deep, resonant blare rolling across the treetops.
The same sound that had marked the beginning of the tournament now echoed again, sending flocks of birds scattering and hearts pounding.
Ito stiffened mid-step, the flag clutched tightly in his hand. Something had shifted.
"Everyone, with the second round now concluded," Rock's voice boomed from the stadium, echoing through the vast forest for every student to hear.
"We have seventy students advancing to the final round."
Cheers and murmurs erupted in the crowd as the tension built.
Rock's voice returned, sharp and commanding.
"So I'll say this once more— in this final round, your task is simple: Protect your flag.
Survive until sunset. If your flag is torn, or you're injured to the point where you can no longer fight, you'll be eliminated immediately."
A pause. Then, his voice dropped low and intense.
"Now then... let's begin."
Every single word from Rock rang clearly in Ito's ears. His fingers tightened around the flag, his gaze focused.
He nodded, a quiet fire burning in his eyes."Just one more step."
"Hey." Gakurei turned his head toward him, eyes sharp and unwavering.
"This is your last chance to back out. Things won't get any easier from here."
Ito froze for a second, caught off guard—but his resolve didn't waver.
"Thanks for the concern," he said firmly, "but there's no way I'm quitting after coming this far."
Gakurei's head tilted slightly downward as he muttered,
"Don't regret it later!"
Before Ito could respond, rustling echoed through the trees.
Three students suddenly burst from the underbrush, eyes locked on the flag in his hand, their footsteps pounding against the forest floor.
"Tch—already?" Gakurei muttered, stepping forward with a sigh, hands tucked loosely in his pockets as if bored.
Ito's pulse spiked, but he steadied himself.
"So they're really coming for it… Alright then."
The attackers lunged—one aimed a punch at Gakurei's face, but he casually tilted his head, the strike grazing past.
Without missing a beat, he caught the student's wrist and twisted it behind his back, slamming him to the ground with a dull thud.
Another came for Ito, throwing a swift kick. Ito blocked with his forearm, staggered slightly, but countered with a sharp jab to the gut.
The student doubled over, and Ito followed with a shove that sent him tumbling into a bush.
The last opponent hesitated, then rushed at both of them.
Gakurei and Ito moved in sync—Ito ducked low as Gakurei leapt over him, delivering a spinning heel kick that sent the attacker sprawling across the forest floor.
Just as they caught their breath, a sharp whistling sound cut through the air.
A rock came flying from deeper in the woods, striking Ito's hand—the very one gripping the flag.
"Agh!" he hissed, the sudden pain jolting through his arm.
His fingers released instinctively.
The flag slipped free, fluttering into the air.
Ito's eyes widened in horror as it spun out of reach…
"No, no—!" Ito lunged forward, reaching for the flag as it floated away.
But just as he moved, a blur shot past his side.
His eyes darted sideways—Gakurei was already airborne.
And he wasn't alone.
Another student had leapt up, holding Ito's flag tightly in midair.
Gakurei grabbed his wrist mid-flight, yanking it back with crushing force.
Both of them landed firmly.
Neither flinched. No panic. No surprise. Just calm intensity between locked eyes.
The guy who grabbed the flag had thick black hair and glasses. His brow twitched as he sneered.
"Seriously? You're gonna keep holding my hand like we're dating? Let go."
"Then hand over the flag, and this little date ends right here."
Gakurei's voice dropped cold, his eyes sharp—like he'd break something if he had to.
The guy let out a small breath, pausing as his eyes narrowed sharply on Gakurei—cold, calculating.
"You don't get it, do you? I just have to crush this flag and your friend out of the tournament."
On the other side of the forest, a different kind of pressure hung in the air.
Kajin stood with his arms crossed, eyes scanning the trees.
Beside him, Zayden tapped his foot impatiently, muttering under his breath.
"They should've been back by now," Zayden said.
Sara, crouched near a low branch, was gripping her flag tightly. "Maybe they ran into trouble…"
Shion sat on a nearby rock, unusually quiet, her brows slightly furrowed. "Or they found someone who thinks they can take them down."
Eriska leaned back against a tree, arms folded, her expression unreadable. "Either way… something's holding them up."
"Don't worry too much," Kajin said, forcing a small grin as he looked toward Sara. "Those two aren't the type to go down easy. They'll be alright."
Sara's brows knit, concern tightening her voice.
"I can't just sit here... I'm going to look for Ito."
But just as Sara took a step forward, the sound of many heavy footsteps echoed through the trees.
Everyone turned toward the noise, tension rising—someone, or a group, was coming.
A group of towering, muscular students emerged from the trees, swaggering left and right, forward and back like a chaotic parade.
In the center of the group, one student was down on all fours like a horse—on his back sat a girl, casually holding an umbrella as if she were royalty out for a ride.
Zayden narrowed his eyes at the bizarre scene.
"Who are these people?" he muttered, baffled, as the odd procession drew closer.
One by one, the bulky students dropped to the ground, forming a human carpet across the forest floor.
"Click. Click. Click."
A sharp rhythm of heels echoed as the girl rose gracefully from her makeshift throne.
Her steps were slow, deliberate—each one landing on the backs and shoulders of the groaning boys beneath her.
None of them complained. In fact, they looked pleased—smiles twitching at the corners of their mouths with each tap of her heel.
Her legs, long and sleek in sheer black stockings, swayed elegantly with every step.
A short pleated skirt bounced lightly with her motion, teasing just enough to make heads turn.
The fitted uniform clung tightly to her hourglass frame, the buttons of her blouse pushed to their limits by her generous curves.
She held an ornate umbrella like a scepter, resting it gently on her shoulder, head held high as if the forest itself existed just to watch her walk.
"My name is Lilith Nightrose," she purred, her voice dripping with superiority as her heels clicked softly on the backs of her followers. "And I'm here to take your flags, you pitiful insects."
Shion's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of recognition crossing his face.
"…Lilith Nightrose…?" he murmured, almost under his breath.
Zayden, standing nearby, caught the name.
"You know her?" he asked, glancing sideways at Shion.
Shion's voice dropped to a low, almost reverent tone.
"Yeah… she's from one of the richest noble families—big name, with ties to the royal family too."
They glanced toward Lilith, a flicker of awe in their eyes.
"But more than that, her beauty's famous across nations. I've seen her face on countless magazine covers."
Eriska crossed her arms with a slight pout.
"Hmph, I don't care who you are... if you want our flag, then come and try to take it!"
Lilith scoffed, brushing her long brown hair back as her heels clicked against the ground.
"I don't have time to waste on lowlifes like you."
She snapped her fingers with a cold smile.
"Make it quick."
At her command, six of the towering muscular students stepped forward in unison, their eyes locked on the group, ready for battle.